Maybe A Teen Wolf Fanfiction
by alovethatconsumesyou
Summary: Stiles feels so lost inside. Basically my take on Stiles' feelings and his relationship with the rest of the pack. Possible STEREK! Slowburn!Sterek and Angsty!Derek. Lot of conflicting feelings and hurt. Takes place after Season 2. Scott, Stiles and Jackson are part of the pack. Erica and Boyd have returned home. There's no alpha pack... yet.
1. Chapter 1

For the past while, this story has plagued my exsistence... literally. I needed to get it out somewhere and hopefully you like it. Inspired by many posts on Tumblr and some things in my own life. Sterek will happen... I AM EXCITED to write about my OTP. I am feeling shaky thinking about you guys reading my take on Sterek. Cannot wait! Will be slow-burn so don't be expecting them to hit it off after a chapter or two. :) This is in no way related to my "The Awakening" and "The Survival" stories. I will be updating them too, so don't worry about that. I just need to clear these ideas out of my head before they take over everything.

First chapter is basically Stiles' musings about life in general. A few loose ends tied up before I begin with the action is always the way to go.

Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Wolf or Sterek or anything... but I would like to own Dylan O'Brien. So if that can be arranged then please give me a call.

* * *

Stiles was fed up. He was eternally fed up of being the weak link of the pack; the weak, forgotten human that was always left behind. It was all right for Scott, he was the co-captain of the lacrosse team with an exceptionally hot girlfriend. Plus he was a werewolf with super abilities and healing powers. It seemed that Scott had been given everything, the main man up in the sky had evidently forgotten about Stiles' existence. That was okay, though. I mean, it's not like Scott was that intelligent – he wasn't. Stiles always had the upper-hand when it came to tests and, especially as it was coming up to the end of the year, maybe Stiles could catch a break. Maybe.

But Stiles couldn't wait until then to shine, even if his light would only be a slightly dim one. He wanted to shine now; he wanted the spotlight to be on him. It was silly to be so jealous of your best-friend, but he wasn't just jealous of his best-friend. He was jealous of them all, the whole pack. He was jealous of how powerful they were and he'd come to accept that a long time ago.

It was actually unfair how much pain he had to go through every Thursday night during "pack meetings", if you could even call them that. Derek had tried to assemble the pack and 'protect' Beacon Hills, but so far... he wasn't exactly doing the best job. It was an impossible task to get teenagers to co-operate together without making-out, never mind getting them to co-operate and fight to protect their town. Stiles always wondered if Derek had bitten off more than he could chew, literally. Why hadn't he just bitten adults? They would have behaved more sensibly or at least not been as idiotic as most of the pack were. But anyway, Stiles had to endure a few hours of the werewolves showing off their skills, while he tried not to sit there and look awkward.

And he really envied them, but he didn't. He didn't want to be a werewolf and be hunted. He realised a long time ago how that was not the life he wanted for himself... or his father. Every choice he would make would affect his father, and that scared the crap out of Stiles. He didn't want to hurt his father anymore than he already had. He didn't want to make his father lose his job yet again. Stiles wanted the power of being a werewolf without being a werewolf, and that was practically impossible.

Stiles wonders if the werewolves noticed anything different about him recently. About how upset and lifeless he'd become, how unnecessary he thought he was. But then he realised that they wouldn't have noticed anything different. None of them cared about him, really. He was just the human researcher who spoke too much and annoyed the crap out of most of them. Scott hadn't even noticed and Scott was meant to be his best-friend! Best-friends until the world ends... sure. None of the rest of the pack would have noticed either. Erica, Boyd, Isaac, Jackson... they weren't exactly his biggest fans out. He hoped Lydia and he might have become closer since they shared a moment once... but nope, nothing. And Derek wasn't exactly the nice guy you could pour your heart and soul out to. Derek was the alpha, and Derek still scared him.

He wasn't really sure why Derek scared him. It wasn't like Derek was the "bad guy" he'd once been. Derek was actually on their side now, he was their alpha. Or the betas' alpha... Stiles wasn't really sure where their relationship status was at right now. But Derek still made him shiver, made his heart beat irrationally in his chest and he didn't know why. It was weird to feel so vulnerable around someone, so weak and scared. Especially someone who was meant to be their leader – it didn't make sense.

Stiles had long ago accepted that Derek was a fine specimen of man. He was lonely, extremely lonely and he often found himself appreciating Derek's body from a far distance. But that didn't mean anything, right? It just meant that Derek had a scarily good body and that made complete sense. The guy worked out every day and he was a werewolf! Of course he was going to have enviable abs. Stiles wondered if Derek knew he was checking him out sometimes. And he hoped that Derek didn't know... and if he did know, he chose not to think about it, ever. It was embarrassing and definitely nothing to worry about or think about. Stiles even found himself checking Danny out in the boys' locker rooms. It just meant that he was appreciating their bodies, not that he was in any way interested in guys. Because he wasn't and he isn't. Stiles is straight, forever in love with Lydia Martin... right.

However, it is pretty hard to love someone when they show no interest in you. I mean, it was okay for the past few years. Stiles observed from a distance and was in awe of her, of Lydia. But it's even harder to watch her proclaim her love for Jackson while he temporarily died in front of the whole pack. That sucked. It actually did more than suck though; it took the wind out of him. It made him realise that his plan to woo Lydia and marry her was definitely not going to work. His years of admiring her from afar had been wasted completely on a girl who was not meant for him. And that sucked even more.

Stiles wanted to move on, he wanted to find someone else. That plan would have worked except he didn't really know how to move on and find someone else. He wasn't exactly the hot topic of Beacon Hills... it didn't take a genius to work out what sort of guys were. Those guys did not include a Stiles Stilinski. Those guys definitely didn't include him, not one bit. He was the guy who talked too much, the guy in your maths class that always did his homework and asked too many questions, the guy who always ate the canteen chicken curry that was definitely not made of chicken. And he was okay with that... to an extent.

He guessed that maybe his longing to shine came from the fact was he was so alone. He didn't really have anyone anymore. No one really took an interest, no one really cared, and no one really tried to make an effort.

However, as Stiles ran his hands through his hair before brushing his teeth, he decided that from now on, from today, from this freakin' moment he was going to become a different Stiles. A happier one. And maybe things would change, maybe he wouldn't be so afraid, maybe something would actually happen to him... maybe.

* * *

Tell me what you think. I'm open to suggestions and criticism or whatever you want to tell me. :) Have a wonderful day!


	2. Chapter 2

The day didn't exactly go as planned. Nothing ever goes to plan when your best friend is an idiot werewolf and you are a plain human. Ever. It all started when Scott couldn't go to the pack meeting because he had a date. With Allison.

It wasn't like Stiles was totally against the whole "true love" thing. He actually believes in love and doesn't have a problem with it. Until his best friend decides to act like a moron and drops everything and everyone on a whim. All for Allison. It just pisses him off even more and makes him angrier.

So Stiles is forced to attend the pack meeting without his buddy. It's not like it made much of a difference with Scott, he didn't necessarily always include Stiles. But without Scott, Stiles really feels like the odd-one-out. And that sucks, too.

His heart is hammering loudly as he drives to Derek's house; the burnt shell that was once the Hale mansion. He wonders why Derek has never bought an apartment somewhere else, it's not like he's exactly lacking in money from the gas-eating Camaro he drives about town. Maybe it's sentimental... but Stiles has never really put Derek down as the sentimental type. Except that Derek's toughness and coldness all comes from the fact his family were burnt down inside this house and Derek blames himself. Maybe Derek is into self inflicted pain. Stiles can empathise, he thinks he's become into that recently as well. Derek was a typical martyr – he should have been born in a time where he could suffer for a good cause.

Stiles shakes his head and clears his thoughts. He can't be distracted tonight because he really needs to show the rest of the pack that humans aren't weak and needy – humans are strong... enough.

Stiles steps out of the jeep and walks towards the house. He knows the werewolves could hear him driving up, but it doesn't stop him calling out as soon as he walks inside... just to make sure, of course. He doesn't hear anything in response, so he just shrugs and walks into the kitchen. Or what used to be the kitchen. Inside the kitchen stood the whole pack, minus Scott.

Derek spoke quietly from the corner, "Why are you late?"

Stiles narrowed his eyes at Derek, "Why do you care? Chill, sour wolf. I'm like thirty seconds late."

Derek just looked at Stiles sharply, but didn't say anything. Stiles hoped that his heart didn't jump and ruin his facade, but apparently it didn't. Lydia looked quite impressed with his backchat to Derek. Stiles 1 – Everyone else 0.

Jackson mumbled something under his breath about Derek's boyfriend being a feisty one, obviously forgetting that Derek could hear him. Stiles could hear him too, so Jackson really needed to learn to keep his mouth shut. Stiles was a bit fed up with Jackson acting like the King every minute of every day. His sarcastic comments were becoming more and more common as the days went on. The comment about Stiles being Derek's boyfriend was a bit odd... and definitely not true.

Stiles blushed slightly as Jackson said it. But it didn't matter if he blushed slightly or if he turned as red as a tomato – the wolves would still be able to see it. He couldn't hide it from them. Jackson smirked as he noticed it, pleased with his ability to rile the rest of his pack members up. It was having the desired effect with Derek, too. His nostrils flared and his eyes flashed dangerously red as he glared at Jackson. The rest of the pack tensed quickly as they realised that Jackson had overstepped the mark this time.

As Stiles was the nearest to Derek, he put his hand on Derek's shoulder to calm him down. It was a weird gesture, but it was only thing he could think of to do. He knew the risk, but he hoped that Derek wasn't pissed at him as much as he was pissed at Jackson. It seemed to work... just. Derek's breathing became deeper and his eyes returned to normal. Jackson's face broke into a knowing smile aimed at Stiles, as if he was proving a point.

Lydia finally decided to break up the awkwardness, "So, Derek, what is the point of the meeting tonight? There are no hunters, no mystery monster, no omegas and no new beta. Why don't you just give us the night off? It's not exactly like we have anything to do."

Derek grimaced. He'd been waiting for this moment for a while; the moment that the pack realised that their meetings had become unnecessary, the moment they realised that every meeting consisted of the same damn things. Derek walked over to Jackson and grabbed his left hand, twisting it sharply until a loud crack filled the room. Jackson yelled in pain as Derek easily broke his wrist. It would heal... eventually, but that wasn't the point.

"What the hell, Derek?" Jackson shouted.

"You said you didn't need a pack meeting. You seemed to cope well against an alpha, didn't you?" Derek said, mocking Jackson.

Jackson held his hand up in surrender, "I didn't say that, okay!" He pointed at Lydia, "She did."

"That's beside the point," Derek retorted, "you think you don't need me. Well then that's fine, but don't forget what happens to a lone wolf..."

And with that, Derek walked out of the room and up the stairs to his bedroom, signalling that it was time for all of them to leave. Stiles remained rooted to the spot, totally in awe of Derek Hale's ability to defend himself. The rest of the pack shuffled around, deciding that they would leave now and avoid a possible further wrath of Derek Hale. They didn't seem to notice that Stiles hadn't moved from the spot or the fact that he was still in the house. All apart from Jackson... he noticed all right.

"Staying behind for a sleepover with your boyfriend, Stilinski... how cute!" Jackson said, teasing him.

Stiles just gave him a look and ignored Jackson. He hated him so much, but the guy was a werewolf. It wasn't like he could kill him easily. Stiles made a mental note to speak to Chris Argent about wolfsbane knives and bullets he could possibly use on the giant asshole.

Stiles walked over to the table and grabbed all the glasses, deciding to clear up and hopefully make Derek feel a little bit better - if that was even possible. Derek was pissed at him too for touching him; Derek doesn't really do human contact. Stiles turned around, expecting Jackson to come out with another snarky comment, but he wasn't there. Excellent.

Everything was cleared up, but that didn't make anything better. Derek was upstairs, literally a few feet away from Stiles and he was super pissed. It would be a good idea to leave the house, but he couldn't. He was too curious, too worried and too freaking stupid to leave. So he let his stupidity take over. He climbed the stairs – three at a time, just like usual and walked across the hall. He stopped outside Derek's bedroom, unsure of what to do. Should he knock? Or should he walk in? It wasn't like Derek would be surprised – Derek could hear him come up the stairs and he knew that Stiles was outside the room. So why was he silent? Why didn't he tell him to go away?

"Derek?" he whispered, his voice barely audible.

No answer... of course.

"Derek?" he said again, this time a little bit louder.

No answer... again.

Stiles really wanted to scream this time. Derek could freaking hear him, why did he have to be so rude? He couldn't be bothered waiting any longer, so he turned the handle of the door and bounded in to the room. Derek's room. And it was so unexpected compared to the rest of the house.

The walls were painted light blue, if that was even possible. There was a large bed, probably king-sized, with a light blue velvet duvet on it. There was a television on one of the walls, currently playing a MTV music channel. Derek was nowhere to be seen. Out of the corner of his eye, Stiles noticed a dark wood door that was closed. Derek had an en-suite? No way.

They say that curiosity killed the cat, but right now curiosity was going to kill Stiles. He tiptoed slowly towards the door and his hand hovered above the handle. It was silly, but he didn't want to seem too obvious or too creepy – he just wanted to see if everything was all right. His heart beat quickened as his hand came ever closer to the handle, but he couldn't open the door. He didn't know what was on the other side; he didn't know what was up with Derek.

"Stiles." Derek's voice was sharp and loud, commanding and scary all at the same time. It literally scared the crap out of him.

Stiles took a deep breath and opened the door. Derek was slightly bent over, his hands were both placed on the sink and his eyes were closed. He looked tense and tired, but oddly peaceful at the same time. Stiles felt a rush of emotions bubble near the surface when he saw how defeated Derek looked. He wanted to reassure him in some way, but he didn't exactly know how.

"I, uh, just ch-checking if you were okay. After what Jackson said. D-don't-" He stuttered, unable to fully form a sentence.

"Stiles. Leave, please." Derek commanded.

Stiles ignored that comment and tried to continue on, "B-but seriously, dude. Jackson is a massive asshole; you don't need to care about what he said."

"I don't."

Derek's voice was oddly final, and that scared Stiles too. He was behaving like a crazy man. His mood swings becoming ever more present, his weirdness was just beyond comprehending. Derek usually ignored little comments from Jackson – they all did. Jackson was a giant ass-wipe, they all knew it. Derek was acting differently and it was weird.

"Are you okay, man? Like if you need to talk or anything you can always-"

Derek cut him off, "I want to be alone. A-lo-ne. Leave, Stiles. Now."

And Stiles surrendered. It seemed like that's all he was doing nowadays, surrendering to everyone else. He raised his hands up in mock defeat and turned around, walking away leaving Derek alone in his house - just like he'd asked.

* * *

_Derek can be quite hard to write and sometimes I'm not sure if I'm making him too distant or nice or OOC. Anyway, thanks for reading. :) _


	3. Chapter 3

Just incase you weren't sure:

- This is a Stiles-centric fanfic

-The Sheriff doesn't know about werewolves

-I am British, therefore most of my stuff will probably be very British. Sorry!

-The Sheriff doesn't know about Stiles and Derek being friends.

* * *

Stiles spent the next few days avoiding Scott, just like Scott had avoided him. As soon as the bell rang at the end of every class, Stiles would run out of the classroom and hope Scott didn't follow him. Hope was the operative word because Scott could easily move fast enough and catch up with him, or sniff him out wherever he was. But Scott finally knew that Stiles didn't want to speak to him, so he left him alone.

Stiles half-expected Scott to come by the house and visit him or maybe catch up with him in school, but that didn't happen. Maybe they weren't as good friends as Stiles originally thought. And that really sucked because he had no one else. Sure he had the pack...sort of, but none of them really liked him. Apart from Boyd, maybe. Boyd liked everyone though – or he was nice to everyone at least.

So it was a surprise to Stiles when he woke in the early hours of Thursday morning to a dark figure standing above him. His mouth opened, and then was shut when a hand clamped over it.

"Shhh, don't wake your dad!" said a voice. A voice that belonged to no other than...

"Derek?! What the hell are you doing here?" he whispered furiously.

Even in the dark, Stiles could tell that Derek was blushing. And that was weird because Derek never blushed. In the year that Stiles had known him, Derek had never really shown any signs that he was human. Except for now. In his bedroom.

"Well?" Stiles said again.

"I didn't mean to snap at you yesterday. It was Jackson, he got to me." Derek confessed.

Stiles was taken aback, "He gets to all of us. I kinda guessed why you were annoyed. It's fine."

Derek nodded in agreement and sat down on the edge of the bed carefully. Stiles just stared at him in awe and amazement.

"What?" Derek asked, a smile creeping on his face.

"Are you all right? Are you hurt?" Stiles asked jokingly.

"Aren't we all?" Derek asked sadly, his eyes focused on Stiles.

Derek's words really shot through his system. Just because Derek didn't speak a lot, doesn't mean that he doesn't think a lot. Evidently, Derek is a lot deeper than he would have ever thought. And that scares the crap out of him a little.

"I suppose so... since when have you got so deep?" Stiles replied sleepily.

Derek opened his mouth to speak, but Stiles pushed his hand out to try and keep him from talking.

"Wait, I don't wanna know. I'm tired, Derek, can you please let me sleep?" Stiles asked. "You can tell me in the morning, okay?"

Derek just smiled hesitantly and stood up, not saying anything in the process. Stiles pouted – he didn't want Derek to leave. He just wanted to go to sleep.

"Don't leave me..." Stiles whispered as Derek moved towards the window.

"Go to sleep," Derek retorted.

"You're hot when you're all feisty," Stiles mumbled to himself, thinking that Derek had left. Derek chuckled softly as he climbed out of Stiles' bedroom window and jumped to the ground.

...

Stiles opened his eyes a few hours later to find his room empty. Obviously Derek had left, or had he even been here in the first place? Stiles banged his head against his pillow. Why on earth did he have a dream about Derek freaking Hale?

Stupid, stupid, stupid. Even stupider. Beyond stupid.

It was even weirder that he had a dream where Derek was nice to him. Derek Hale actually being nice to him - not pinning him against walls or hitting his head against the wheel of his jeep. And Derek actually having a little substance, his walls crumbling down a little. Stiles wondered if he was into the whole 'turning a mean guy nice' thing. He hoped he wasn't... because things were weird. Beyond weird.

Stiles didn't even allow himself to believe for a second that Derek was in his room. Why on earth would Derek Hale be in his bedroom? Nothing added up, it was so completely out of character, so completely irrational. However, maybe Stiles didn't know Derek as well as he thought he did. That sparked something inside of him... he and Scott didn't know Derek well. At all. They only knew the facts, the basics. They didn't really know anything personal about him. Hell, Stiles didn't even know his favourite food; if he liked Pop Tarts; if he even liked TV.

That made Stiles feel a little bit sad. They hadn't bothered to get to know him, had they? They would never have spoken before, ever, if Scott was still completely human. And that frightened Stiles a bit, too. As much as he pretended that he hated Derek, there was a part of him that was slightly intrigued by Derek's past... and Derek himself.

Stiles blamed the fact that he was obsessed with finding things out. Whether it was the history of the male circumcision or the number of toilet rolls people went through a year, Stiles had to know. He guessed it stemmed from his ADHD, but he wasn't sure. He also didn't really care; he oddly liked finding weird and unnecessary things out. This was a slight bit far... he was almost treating Derek like a project now. And he knew that Derek would so not take well to that. At all.

...

A few minutes later, Stiles decided that he was hungry and breakfast would be great. So he padded down the stairs and walked into the kitchen. His dad, the Sheriff, was sitting at the table, pouring over his latest case.

"Hey dad," Stiles said.

His dad just nodded and smiled at Stiles, before taking a swig of his orange juice and focusing his attention on the papers sitting in front of him. Just like usual. Stiles sighed quietly to himself and opened the kitchen cupboard, pulling out a packet of Pop Tarts and set both in the toaster. He watched his dad intently as he waited for the Tarts to finish toasting. His dad looked tired, even more tired than usual. His eyes were bloodshot and he had dark circles under his eyes... definitely overworking.

"Hey dad, when was the last time you got a full night's sleep?" he said jokingly.

"Stiles..." his dad began.

Stiles grimaced, "Seven hours?"

His dad dropped the papers onto the table in defeat, "I know, okay? It's just... this case is important."

"How important?" Stiles asked.

"Very..." His dad said, "Nothing's exactly happened... yet. But we have to be careful. You have to be careful, okay?"

Stiles' eyes narrowed, "What do you mean? Nothing has happened here in Beacon Hills, but you're still working on a case? Why?"

His dad took a deep breath, "I probably shouldn't be telling you this, but, knowing you, you'll find out anyway. So I might as well tell you the details. There's been a trail of deaths across the West side of the country. It all started in Washington. Five people killed, their bodies completely lacerated and they had burn marks over their bodies. Same thing in Idaho, except it was six people. Then, in Portland, Oregon, there were five people killed. Or, at least, there were four humans killed in Portland..."

Stiles mouth opened, "What was the fifth thing that was killed in Portland?"

Stiles' dad turned away, "I don't really know if I should-"

"Dad."

His dad sighed, "Okay, okay. A wolf was killed, too. And it was lying beside the four humans. It was weird, Stiles. One of our guys went down to check it out, and it was really strange. They've never seen anything like it before. Nothing like this."

"Are there even wolves in Portland? There haven't been wolves in this side of the country for the last like seventy years..." Stiles said.

Stiles felt like fainting. Did Derek know about this? Was this related to their furry problem? Could someone be killing people or wolves? Could they be next?

"There's another thing," his dad spoke again, "In each place, someone was taken hostage from the group that were killed. They took one person and killed the rest. It's really worrying the guys in our department. We could be next... you never know."

Stiles nodded, "Dad, I'm sure it's not. I'm sure everything will be fine and nothing will happen to us. Or Beacon Hills. I know you won't let that happen."

Stiles was about to get his Pop Tarts out of the toaster, but his phone buzzed. Trust Scott to ruin the moment. He took his phone out of his pocket and answered it.

Scott's voice was low and worried, "I'm outside your house. I need a lift and we need to talk."

He grabbed the Pop Tarts and looked at his dad apologetically, "I have to go. Scott needs a lift and I think I'm running late. See you later!"

He ran out of the house and into the jeep, where Scott was sitting already.

"Dude! You scared the crap out of me." Stiles whined.

"Good." Was all Scott said.

"Did you hear all that?" Stiles asked, hoping that he wouldn't have to repeat everything his dad had said.

"Yes. We need to go see Derek. Now." Scott said.

Stiles sighed in exasperation and hit the gas pedal with his right foot. It was going to be a long day.


	4. Chapter 4

_Don't call it a fight when you know it's a war._  
_With nothing but your t-shirt on._  
_And go sit on the bed 'cause I know that you want to._  
_You got pretty eyes, but i know you're wrong._

_And don't call it a spade if it isn't a spade._  
_And go lie on the floor if you want._  
_The first bit of advice that you gave me that I liked was they're too strong, too strong._  
_Get in the shower if it all goes wrong._

_Yeah you wanna find love then you know where the city is _  
_Yeah you wanna find love then you know where the city is_  
_Yeah you wanna find love then you know where the city is_  
_Yeah you wanna find love then you know where the city is_

**_The City - The 1975_**

* * *

"So you're telling me that something out there is killing werewolves?" Derek said. His tone was sarcastic and obvious and Stiles didn't like it.

"I know that there are hunters and stuff, but this is completely different. I'm sure of it. My dad said there were three other attacks and in each one at least like four people died. Hunters have to stick to a code, don't they? We don't even know if these people are werewolves or not, either. Do we?" Stiles reasoned.

Derek opened his mouth, but then closed it again. He obviously knew Stiles was right and Stiles smirked in satisfaction. He was glad that he didn't feel awkward around Derek... but he had to real reason to. He'd dreamt about a Derek, not the Derek that was standing in front of him. The Derek standing in front of him was a completely different Derek from the one in his dream. And that was acceptable. It could be his doppelganger. No one would ever know. As far as he was concerned, he'd dreamt about someone else than the person standing there in front of him. However, the more Stiles thought about it, the more he came to realise that he must spend a lot of time looking at Derek. The Derek in his dream was completely identical to the one standing in front of him; the same five o'clock stubble, the exact same shade of eyes, the strong jaw line, the eyebrows. It was exactly the same and that worried Stiles just a little bit.

No one spoke for a while; Stiles was still pondering about his obvious Derek attraction and Derek was brooding... as usual. Scott decided to snap them both out of it and get something productive done.

"Guys? I know you two can't exactly get on, but can we at least talk about what we're gonna do?" Scott said.

Stiles and Derek looked at each other instantly. Stiles felt a bit hurt that Scott assumed Derek didn't like him. He knew that wasn't the case or, at least, he hoped it wasn't the case.

"W-what are we gonna do, Derek?" Stiles echoed, his voice stuttering slightly.

"I don't know... yet," Derek said, "It seems a little early to be worrying or expecting anything, but we would be stupid to ignore it."

Derek walked over to the table where Peter's laptop was sitting. He lifted the lid and started typing. Scott and Stiles looked at each other in confusion – Derek hasn't exactly shown his computer savvy-ness before, has he?

"What are you doing?" Scott asked.

Derek sighed in frustration, "Looking for something. Something that obviously can't be found..." he broke off to type something else before continuing, "Stiles, when did the last group death happen?"

"In Portland? I'm not sure... a couple of weeks, maybe. Dad's still working with the detectives over there to help, so it can't be that long ago. Why?" Stiles said slowly.

Derek slammed the lid on the laptop down and took a deep breath, "Because I can't find anything about it on the internet. No news articles, no mysterious deaths, no nothing. Absolutely no deaths like that in Oregon, Idaho or Washington. Are you sure that something happened?"

"Positive - or as positive as I can be. Dad had the files on the kitchen table. He wouldn't let me see, but he was looking over the case. Think about it, though. I bet the people he killed had no other family; I bet they didn't even know their names. They probably couldn't be identified because they are probably werewolves, right? And they don't want to scare other people, so the detectives have just decided to keep it quiet. It happens quite a lot, you know." Stiles said, quite pleased with himself.

Derek looked quite pleased too, "Is you dad at home?" he asked innocently.

"Why?" Stiles asked.

Suddenly, he realised why. Derek wanted to break into his house and steal the files. Oh no.

"Derek you can't just break into my house and take evidence from a murder!" he protested.

Stiles looked at Scott for support, but Scott just gave him the puppy eyes.

"I'm with Derek on this one," he said, "We need to know what's going on and we need to get to the bottom of it. It's for the greater good, buddy."

Stiles just muttered under his breath about evil werewolves and how he was going to poison them with wolfsbane in their sleep. Scott laughed throatily at him and Derek just frowned. Back to normal – yay.

"I'm gonna go now," Derek announced, "I'll be quick – I promise. You two can probably head to school now, if you want. I'll come find you if there's anything to worry about."

Stiles nodded briefly and grabbed Scott by the shoulders, "Come on, buddy. School awaits!"

Derek and Scott just exchanged glances before Stiles and Scott walked out of the Hale mansion and got into Stiles' jeep.

"You know," Stiles began, "He's beginning to grow on me. Just a little bit."

Scott laughed at Stiles and flicked his ear. Stiles flicked him back and the two of them got into a silly fight, messing about and poking each other. They had so much going on that they never really had time to just be best friends and laugh. Now they were making up for it.

Stiles smacked Scott rather hard on the head to get him to stop, "Look, we better go. School and everything. We can't be too late."

Scott nodded and clicked his seat belt before Stiles hit the gas pedal and drove away from Derek's house. Derek was watching them the whole time and a very vivid memory popped into his head of him and his younger brother, Zack. They were playing in that very place and Zack was trying to fight Derek. Derek wasn't taking him seriously and Zack was trying his hardest. Laura had been circling the perimeter and Derek wasn't aware that she was behind him, until Zack pulled him out of the way. Laura was just messing about, but Zack thought she was going to hurt Derek.

Derek was fighting back the urge to shift as that memory wreaked havoc on his heart. He didn't want this pain, he didn't want it. He didn't want to hurt so much every single time he thought of his family. He took a deep breath to steady himself, but it didn't work. The instinct to shift on anger or pain was too strong. Derek ran into the forest and with each step he found himself becoming less human and more of an animal.

...

Stiles and Scott arrived at school just on time, miraculously. Stiles found himself running to his first period Calculus class just before the bell rang. He made it, but only just. A stressful morning was just what he needed – not.

The rest of the day passed with nothing interesting happening. That was until lunchtime. Stiles' phone had been buzzing all morning, but he hadn't had any time to answer it. However, he decided to check it on his way to the canteen. He nearly had a heart attack as he read the name of the person who was harassing him all morning. Derek freaking Hale.

Fifteen missed calls and seven text messages; each text message consisted of the same thing – **'I got the files. Don't worry, your dad wasn't in. D x'.**

Since when did Derek Hale tell him not to worry? Or end his messages with "D x"? Since when did Stiles get all hyped up because someone sent him a kiss in a text message? It probably meant nothing. Infact, it was probably a typo. Derek had huge hands and it wasn't like he was a slow typer; he probably typed it at three hundred miles an hour and sent the same thing to Scott. Apart from the dad bit of course.

Stiles tapped out a reply – **'Good. Thanks Sourwolf x'** – and put his phone back in his pocket, blushing slightly. It was slightly weird to be blushing at a generic text from Derek... Stiles really needed to sort himself out. He was so absorbed in his own thoughts that he didn't hear Scott behind him (or his phone buzz again).

"Dude, what's happened? You look like Lydia's just asked you out on a date. Which is weird because I just saw her making out with Jackson literally ten seconds ago." Scott babbled, obviously in a good mood after his double period of English with Allison.

Stiles shrugged and blew it off, "No reason; I've just had a pretty good day and my maths teacher didn't give us any homework." He lied, hoping Scott would believe it. Scott just smiled at his best-friend and Stiles internally blew a sigh of relief. Sometimes it really helped that Scott was so naive and oblivious. This was definitely one of those times.

As they made their way to the canteen, Stiles couldn't help thinking about what was going to happen to them and if there really was something out there killing werewolves. Scott kept talking about Allison, so all Stiles had to do was smile and nod vigorously at the right places. He didn't really have to say much, once you got Scott talking about her it was hard to get him to stop. They reached the canteen and Scott made a beeline for Allison's table. Stiles walked a bit slower, wanting to appreciate his last few moments of Jackson-free bliss before he was going to be subjected to an hour long torture session by the arrogant asshole. Stiles whipped his phone out of his pocket... just to check. To his surprise, Derek had replied.

**'You're funny, Stiles. See you later. D xo**'

Stiles jaw dropped and he stopped still in the middle of the canteen. People were looking at him in curiosity, but he didn't really pay them any attention. He was so surprised about the text; it wasn't something typical of Derek. The kiss wasn't an accident, either, and this time he added a hug. What was with the 'see you later' bit either? Derek was acting strangely and Stiles knew it. However, it did make him feel a slight bit better (for some random reason). He walked towards the table of doom with a slight smile on his face, not really caring that everyone was now staring at him.

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:)


	5. Chapter 5

**Wow, it feels like I haven't uploaded in ages! Sorry guys. Here is Chapter 5 and I hope you all enjoy it. **

**PS- am I the only one who thinks Season 3 is freaking unbelievable!? Last night's episode (3x06) was so on point and beautiful, especially the Stiles/Scott scene! (I won't spoil it for those who haven't seen it yet). **

* * *

Stiles was well aware that he was talking to himself and that people were staring, but he couldn't find it in himself to care at all. It was four o'clock and he was sitting in Detention. Again. His dad was going to kill him. This time, though, it totally was not his fault and he was going to get his dad to realise that; probably after his dad spent the majority of the evening shouting at him. It really was not his fault; Harris just did not like him.

It all started last year when Stiles walked into the classroom of Adrian Harris, Chemistry teacher and asshole extraordinaire. Harris had a reputation of picking on one of pupils to be his scapegoat and every Chemistry lesson they had, Stiles was subjected to torture - literal torture by the master of sarcasm and punishment, the lover of detention and homework. It only worsened when Stiles' father questioned him about the Hale fire; Harris claimed his father treated him harshly and now it was his turn. Stiles decided that Harris had serious issues, but he didn't want to complain to his father. It would be so unnecessary and his father had enough on his plate without worrying about a Chemistry teacher giving his son detention. Stiles wondered if he could bribe Derek to kill him – Derek wasn't exactly emphatic about humans, so Stiles thought he wouldn't have to plead a whole lot.

Today, however, Harris went a whole ninety minutes without mentioning Stiles, without even looking at him. Stiles almost breathed a sigh of relief... almost. They were doing a practical today, but Harris gave them homework anyway. He wrote the homework up on the board and told the class to pack the equipment away before leaving. He seemed in a good mood for once and the class could not wait to leave before it turned sour. In his excitement to leave, Stiles accidentally knocked over a boiling tube and conical flask with hydrochloric acid in it. The flask tumbled off the table and smashed into a thousand tiny fragments on the floor.

"Detention, Stilinski. You know the time and place." Harris' voice was quiet and uncaring, just like usual.

Stiles scowled and whispered "Asshole" under his breath in frustration.

Harris' selective hearing picked it up, "All week." He said and this time he couldn't hide the smugness in his voice.

Stiles didn't trust himself not to retaliate so he avoided Harris' glare. He picked the broken bits of glass up and threw them in the bin, before grabbing his schoolbag and walking out of the classroom.

Scott caught up with him in the hallway, "Dude, you do know you're bleeding?" he asked.

Stiles automatically looked down. No blood.

"No I'm not." He said, giving Scott a funny look.

Scott grabbed his hand, "Yes you are."

Stiles looked closely at his hand and sure enough, it was bleeding. He cursed under his breath; it was one more problem on his long list. He couldn't really afford to bleed in a town crawling with supernatural creatures. Especially now that there was some mysterious thing that was more than likely making its way towards Beacon Hills. Great.

So that was how Stiles found himself a few hours later sitting in Harris' room along with a few other unlucky ones. His phone had been confiscated as usual and he was supposed to be doing homework. However, this was Stiles. His homework was sitting in front of him, but he couldn't really face doing it. All he could think about was Derek. That stupid freaking text from stupid Derek freaking Hale. "See you later" – what does that even mean?

So he was talking to himself to both distract himself and to pass the time. It wasn't working as well as he'd hoped. He started by naming as many classical composers as he could. He did quite well, naming twenty well-known ones and so he decided to move on. His next topic was cities in Italy and he didn't have a clue, really. He got Milan and Pisa and Venice, but that was it. His brain was fried and all he could think about was Derek Hale. How good Derek Hale would look in a catwalk in Milan, how much fun it would be to go on a date to Pizza Hut with Derek Hale, how nice Derek Hale's text was. And, in that moment, Stiles realised he really needed to get a life and stop living off the crumbs of affection other people gave him.

It came as a relief when half four came around and detention was over. He was going to have to relive the last hour and a half over again each day this week, but he was glad that, for today, it was over and he was free. Free to do whatever he liked – not. He would have to go home and finish his homework and worry about his dad. And whatever that thing was that was terrorising the whole of West America. Stiles picked up his phone from Harris' desk and walked out of the room, turning it on in the process. As soon as it loaded up, it began to explode. His ringtone going off again and again and he had no idea how to stop it.

Thirteen missed called and five new messages. All from Derek freaking Hale.

**Where are you? **

**Why aren't you in your house?**

**Answer me, Stiles. I swear to God. **

**Why aren't you answering your phone?**

**Stiles?**

Why was Derek so concerned with him? Stiles sighed in exasperation and rang him. It would be a lot easier than trying to communicate via text. He hit the call button as he got into the jeep and waited for Derek to answer and he answered after three rings. Quick, Stiles noted.

"Where the hell-" Derek begun

Stiles interrupted him mid-sentence, "School. I had a freaking detention, just like every other kid has had at one point in their life."

Stiles waited for a reply, but Derek was oddly quiet.

"Why did you ring me like ten times and leave me all those texts? Is something wrong?" Stiles asked tentatively, not sure if he should remain quiet or speak.

There was another pause at the end of the line and Stiles had to strain his ears to hear Derek's reply, "Sort of, just a precaution, I had no idea where you were."

"But can you not smell me?" Stiles asked, "Or is that a stupid question and there is an obvious answer to why you can't?"

Derek hesitated before replying, as if he was unsure of how to word himself. "I could... but I couldn't. There was no fresh scent, nothing reliable. Maybe I just panicked."

Stiles mouth formed a small circle and he nodded, "Well, I'm safe! So there's nothing to worry about."

"Apart from the mystery werewolf killings," Derek said, a platonic tone to his voice.

"Apart from the mystery werewolf killings," Stiles echoed.


	6. Chapter 6

**I suffer from the worst kind of writers' block - I can think of a plot, but I can't think of how to word it; or I can word everything beautifully and it's the biggest pile of crap! Anyway, chapter 6 for you.**

* * *

"Have you found something out? Like something else? Do you know who it is?"

It was a few hours later and they were both in Stiles' bedroom. Stiles was doing his homework and Derek was lounging on his bed, frowning at Stiles and trying to listen out for anything that could be nearby. It had been quiet for ages until Stiles sprung three questions on Derek in the space of twenty seconds.

"Hold on, one thing at a time. I have an idea, but it's nothing certain. Just a hunch." Derek said cryptically.

"What is it? Is it hunters?" Stiles pointed out the obvious choice, hoping that it was not hunters. He hated hunters.

"Sort of," Derek replied. "They're... good hunters." He finished lamely.

Stiles arched an eyebrow, "How good?"

"Incredibly good. They're like the very first generation of hunters. We thought the Argents were bad; these hunters are ten times more equipped."

"Great. What's their name? Is it some werewolf clue like Argent?"

"Nope," Derek said. "This one is pretty normal. Their last name is Spencer. Pretty generic."

Stiles shrugged for a moment and then realised something.

"Spencer? As in Bethany Spencer?"

Derek looked at him harshly, "I have no idea who Bethany is. Why?"

Stiles took his phone out of his pocket and began searching through facebook, "Because she just moved into town."

Stiles held his iPhone up and there it was; the profile of Bethany Spencer. It stated that she was sixteen years old and that she was born in Washington DC, but that she moved around a lot in the West of the USA and that her favourite movie was "Teen Wolf" starring Michael J Fox as a boy who inherits the werewolf gene from his father. It was supposed to be a comedy, but Stiles guessed it would be more like a horror show now that he knew that werewolves were real. Was it supposed to be some kind of sick joke? Or was this girl completely oblivious to the horrors going on under her nose, just like Allison?

Allison. The name sparked a memory in Stiles' head of the first day he met Allison. She was the new girl from a different state who moved around a lot. She was also a hunter, but she didn't know what her family was capable of doing. And just like her aunt before her, Allison had a secret relationship with a young werewolf. Kate had mocked Derek with her verdict on the story – history repeating itself, she had called it. Could that be the very thing? Could this be a town full of patterns and mysteries to be solved? Could things be prevented by reading the signs? It all seemed a little too far-fetched for Stiles.

However, this could be history repeating itself. It was. So far, Allison and this Bethany girl both shared the same initial attributes and that scared the hell out of him. He didn't want this to happen; he didn't want another girl messed up in their drama, let alone a hunter. Why did things have to be so complicated?

Derek's voice interrupted his fast-emerging thoughts, "Hold up, how do you know she's new? You've never mentioned her before."

"She's in my AP English class, dude. She arrived like last Monday, I'm not even sure. She sits in front of me and she forgot her pen. So like the nice, gentle boy I am, I gave her my-my... Oh my God, Derek. Holy crap."

Derek's eyes widened at Stiles' tone, "What is it?"

"I gave her my pen, Derek." Stiles muttered.

Kate was right; this town was history repeating itself.


	7. Chapter 7

Stiles spent the rest of the school day being ignored by Scott, who had "werewolf" business to attend to with the rest of the pack. They spent lunch time together and Stiles was discouraged from joining the table. He became so frustrated at Scott and the others that he left the canteen and went to the library. Because there was nothing else to freaking do, that's why.

Walking into the library, he saw a glimpse of black wavy hair and olive-toned complexion that could pass for Allison any day. It was Bethany. It was the first time he saw her since he found out that she was a potential psychopath. That definitely changed things up a bit, he thought.

He smiled at her cautiously, not sure of what to say. Should be go over, or was that too weird? Maybe she thought he was weird, but then again maybe she didn't. It was a vicious circle that Stiles needed to break. So he walked over to her slowly and she began to wave at him to come over.

"Hey Stiles! What are you doing here?" she said warmly. She was surprisingly cheery and inviting for a girl who potentially killed over ten people. Maybe the nice act was, just that, an act. Stiles had to be alert, just incase.

"Oh, nothing really. My friends are being jerks and I have some homework to do." He lied easily, sitting down beside her and opening his bag. "What about you? You don't seem like the usual suspect to be hanging out in the library" He continued, smiling despite himself at her.

She just looked down, a pink blush moving over her cheeks. "I, uh, I don't really know many people here, you know? I don't really have any friends, um, yet." She was very softly spoken, with a slightly British accent. It was both surprising and engaging. As she spoke, she fiddled with a small strand of hair, placing it behind her ear multiple times.

And Stiles knew in that instant that she was just a young girl, a young girl who was incredibly self-conscious and found making friends difficult. He saw a part of himself in her and he could empathise with her. Derek was wrong about her, she wasn't involved. She wasn't Allison, who easily fit in and was confident. This was a girl who was lost.

"Don't laugh," She continued shakily, "but I've been coming here every day. It beats sitting in the canteen on your own. You can pretend to do homework in here and people won't stare and look at you weirdly. I kinda like it, you know?"

He also noted that she spoke using her hands a lot. Stiles kinda found it slightly hot. She was really something and he understood her totally; this was just how he felt.

"Hey, hey. It's okay, I feel the same way too. It's just a teenager thing. You can always sit with me at lunch; I won't judge you... much." He said, teasing her at the end.

She smiled brightly, "Yeah, I'd really like that. Well I gotta go and see someone now, but I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?"

Stiles just nodded and she got up and left quietly. Stiles watched her the whole time in awe. She was enthralling.

...

Stiles was trying to talk to Derek. Plead to Derek. Beg Derek. Anything really, just to get him to leave Bethany alone.

"Dude, I'm certain that she doesn't know anything. I think we should just leave her out of all this."

Derek was having none of it, "Do you realise how stupid you sound? You're going to be begging for my forgiveness when she plunges a knife into your back next week."

Stiles scrunched his face up in response and sat down in the kitchen. Derek sat down beside him too.

"I can't take any chances with this, not like I did with the Argents and Gerard. Remember how he could make us do whatever he wanted? I'm not going let that happen with these hunters. We need to be at least 5 steps ahead." Derek said.

"Do I really have to break into her locker and steal her bag? Can't one of the wolves do that?" Stiles asked, hopefully.

"No, that would be too obvious," Derek stated. "I bet they have an idea who is a werewolf in this town and it sure as anything isn't you. If you're caught or something happens then you can just pretend it's a misunderstanding. They won't suspect anything." Derek smiled, pleased at himself with his logic.

Stiles, however, wasn't pleased. He didn't want to be used as live bait again. He was pretty sure that these hunters knew that he was involved in some way – he was Scott McCall's best friend for goodness sake! He was always with him and the rest of the pack. They would know he was connected anyway.

He figured that Derek was convinced in this plan, and as they didn't have any other good ideas, he decided that he would go ahead with it. If he was caught, then he would most likely be suspended and he wasn't sure if his dad would take that well. The Sheriff was only just getting over the whole "restraining order" thing; he didn't need another run in with the police. Not yet. Derek didn't really care what happened to him; he just cared what happened to the pack. Stiles was the tag along, the back-burner friend, the third wheel. And he was used to it; it didn't make him that upset anymore.

Of course it did – why was he lying to himself?


	8. AUTHOR NOTE

Hey everyone! I know its been a while since I uploaded and I'm really sorry, but it's going to be an even longer time until there's a further update. My laptop crashed and deleted most of my things. Fortunately, some of my fics and things were saved onto another drive, but the finished copy of this story wasn't. I have the outline and story board for it written out in one of my notebooks, but I really don't feel like finishing it. I've moved onto other stories and I can't really face writing everything out again. It probably wouldn't be the same as before.

If anyone wants to message me about it, maybe we could work on this story together? Like co-authors for the rest of it. That would be cool. Otherwise, I'm not sure what's happening with it.

I feel so bad for letting you guys down, especially as it received a lot more feedback than I'd ever expected.

xx


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